


Big Dreams and Pinky Promises

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Best Friends, But also, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, M/M, Plans For The Future, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, The thing is it spans their life from little kids to post game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 02:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11175294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: Their friendship baffled the rest of the village folk. Forsyth was loud and boisterous the moment he learned to speak, while Python was a child of a few words (and his words were both scathing and often scandalous when they came). But somehow, they worked.Little did everyone know just how well they worked together.Luckily enough for Python, the response he got was positive, overwhelmingly so just like everything with Forsyth.He grabbed Python’s neck, a little more forcefully than he seemed to intend because he lightened his grip immediately, and pulled him closer. They were both clumsy and inexperienced, but first kisses usually are, and Python never sweated the details of anything. It was good enough for him.Forsyth’s dream for them was cliche and idyllic, but if Python knew anything, it was that Forsyth had a knack for making crazy dreams come true.





	Big Dreams and Pinky Promises

**Author's Note:**

> These two were my faves since the moment I got their B support, but I was debating writing something, until I sw that somwhow this is not a widely shipped pairing. I just had to then. This had spoilers for endgame towards the end, but it's the sort of spoiler that you could have guessed knowing anything about the plot.

If you had asked anyone in their tiny mountain village, they had never seen Python and Forsyth apart in all the days of their youth.

And they’d be absolutely correct.

They didn’t so much as meet at any point as they were born together. Forsyth’s father had recently moved into the village to serve as scholar to the local lord, and had commissioned Python’s father to make him an ornate reading chair. The pay was great and the job not too hard, so his dad had jumped at the chance. Forsyth’s dad was a attentive man (perhaps overly so, looking at his his on turned out) and would visit often to check it’s progress and chat. Over the course of the few weeks it took, the two quickly became friends, and stayed so into their old age.

The pair’s wives even became pregnant around the same time, and Python and Forsyth were born within a month of each other.

Growing up in nearby houses with best friends for parents didn’t really leave them any choice, so best friends they themselves became.

It baffled the rest of the village folk, however. Forsyth was loud and boisterous the moment he learned to speak, while Python was a child of a few words (and his words were both scathing and often scandalous when they came). But somehow, they worked.

Little did everyone know just how well they worked together.

* * *

They were seven when Forsyth proudly declared to Python that he was going to be a knight.

“You can’t be a knight,” young Python had declared like it was the Mila given truth.

“Why not!?” the offense in Forsyth’s voice was palpable.

“Because you’re a commoner, that’s why.”

“I can do it. And you’re coming with me!"

And it was decided. Because of course Python was coming. Where Forsyth went so did he, right?

A pinky promise was dragged out of him, and they went back to splashing their feet in the river.

* * *

They were eighteen when they first kissed.

Because it was then that it really hit Python how slim the chances of them ever being separated were.

“Your old man is gonna to kill you,” he said, leaning against a tree while Forsyth practiced swinging a lance in “secret”. His sudden presence made his companion jump, and turn to glare it him.

“A warning would be nice. And anyway, you know that he is going to think whatever he wants of me no matter what I do,” he took a heavy swing, whacking the dull practice blade against the slipshod dummy he had put together, “We’re never going to see eye to eye.”

“Not to sound like I’m sidin’ with him or anything, but have you thought about why he wants you not to fight?”

“Because he wants me to be just like him?” Taking a break from his exercises, Forsyth rested the lance against a tree, giving his friend his full attention now.

Python was a master at keeping his appreciation for his friend’s growing muscles subtle, “Maybe he wants you to not get hurt.” _Wouldn’t be the only person who thought that._

This seemed to give Forsyth pause, who looked pensive, “That is...not something I considered. But I’m still firm. I can do more good for this world on the battlefield than here, analyzing some old tomes.”

Sighing, Python shrugged, feigning the nonchalance that was usually genuine, except when it came to his best friend’s safety, “Well, it is your life. You’re basically an adult, and can do whatever you want.”

“Python, I...” Forsyth sighed, “I’m not holding you to a promise you made half our lives ago. I mean, I do think you should consider doing more with your life, but that doesn’t really have to mean you have to follow me. If I have my free will, you have yours.”

That was unusual, coming from the guy who had dragged his sorry ass out of bed at the crack of dawn to do chores and train since they were twelve.

And it broke his damn heart.

“Forsyth, you know me. And you know I don’t do nothin’ I don’t wanna do. So why exactly would I let you drag me around if I didn’t want you to? I may complain, because my real home is in my bed, but I don’t mind being with you.”

The grin that grew on his face was blinding.

“If I know you, then I trust that you know me well enough that I’m holding you to what you just said.”

“Trust me, I know all about your intense tendencies.”

“I’m glad.”

“For what?"

“That you’re coming. Even if I know you’ll act like you hate it the whole time. Because honestly,” he looked down, uncharacteristically humbled, “The dream I had as a kid always had you in it. It would be a shame when it comes true if you’re not there.”

That was it.

It only took Python a few steps to stand face to face with his friend, whom puberty had given him a few inches on. He leaned down to close that gap, and laid one right on him. He had heard it was common courtesy to ask first, but he was a man who disliked trivial things (and had the worry of being rejected).

Luckily enough for him, the response he got was positive, overwhelmingly so just like everything with Forsyth.

He grabbed Python’s neck, a little more forcefully than he seemed to intend because he lightened his grip immediately, and pulled him closer. They were both clumsy and inexperienced, but first kisses usually are, and Python never sweated the details of anything. It was good enough for him.

When they broke apart, Python reveled in the face Forsyth was making, embarrassed, confused, and pleased all at once.

“I believe that means I don’t have to worry about your willingness to be by my side?”

Python laughed, “If you want it to. All it means to me is that I expect that at least daily now. So we can get better.”

“Practice does make perfect,” Forsyth admitted, leaning in to kiss Python again, forgetting all about his lance practice.

* * *

Python never really thought he’d have to make good on his promise to follow Forsyth into soldierhood. But when they were twenty one and the local lord was hiring soldiers to defend his fields from bandits, offering up steady pay to boot, so Forsyth saw it as a win-win for him.

Python saw it as a death sentence.

He’s sure he mentioned it amidst all his other complaints.

Forsyth had never really fought in a battle before. His only opponents had ever been dummies, retired soldiers bemused by his antics, and Python, by way of arrow dodging practice. So the thought of his over zealous partner charging into battle with some experienced brigand and meeting a quick end was a thought too often in Python’s mind.

Contrary to what he was told by his father, he did care about things; those things just so happened to be food, drink, money, and Forsyth.

“This is just a recipe for death,” Python said in concern dressed as a gripe, “Are you still so sure you wanna do this?”

“Are you still so sure you want to come along?” The words were both a barb and a serious question. Despite their essentially lifelong vows, Forsyth always made sure this was what he wanted (and once given assurance, he nagged him like a mother hen about working harder).

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“I won’t. There’s too much to do, and I know you won’t do it,” Forsyth leaned over to quickly kiss Python’s cheek, and it made Python remember exactly why he was here again.

* * *

Rocking the boat was the number one thing Python was not interested in doing. He thought the class system was grossly unfair and geared to keep the people silent, but he wasn’t the man to change the world. There was a lot of evil out there, but it wasn’t his job to exterminate it.

That is, until Forsyth decided they were joining the Deliverance.

Why was it his job to save a country he barely held allegiance too? But he had made a promise, so he marched behind Forsyth as usual, making sure to complain as much as possible so his partner would have to suffer just as much as him.

“How much longer?” he whined as they took a momentary rest, cradling his sore foot.

“It would seem much less far if you weren’t complaining every moment, but it should be only another hour or so walk, if my map was correct.”

“I flippin’ hope so. They better let us in or you can kiss twenty five years of friendship goodbye.”

Exasperated but not surprised, Forsyth walked over to do what he always did when Python irritated him.

Kiss him.

(That was not the only reason Python complained.)

(Only about half the reason.)

When they pulled away, Python was looking considerably less put out, and it pissed him off that Forsyth looked like knew it was his victory.

“When we get there I demand ample compensation for all this walkin’,” he grinned, standing up straight, “ _Ample_ .”

“I’ll see what I can do once we’ve been given our duties.”

There was no denying the promise in Forsyth’s voice.

* * *

“Holy shit.”

Python always found overt profanities to be rather uninventive and dull, and prefered to find other colorful expletives. It was a habit he picked up from Forsyth.

But what else can you say after you helped kill a god at the ripe age of twenty five?

His first thought after the dust had cleared was, as always, _Where’s Forsyth? Damn fool didn’t get himself killed, did he?_ _  
_

It seemed as if though that thought was not only his own, because he heard a familiar voice calling his name, and rushed towards the sound (the first time he had rushed anywhere in his life).

“You ain’t dead!” he tried to keep his tone casual, hoping it would mask the relief he felt. He knew it didn’t, “Lookin’ good.”

“Not too shabby yourself, it seems. A little scuffed up, but otherwise not too worse for wear.”

After their regular battles, Forsyth always had something to critique about him, usually his effort, or lack thereof. But he looked to be letting it slide now, in favor of taking Python’s hand in his own and squeezing.

He got a squeeze back.

“Now what? The Deliverance doesn’t seem to be needed anymore. Since Rigel is sorta... gone.”

“I am likely to remain a knight. But...” his face twisted into something akin to pain, but it was also peaceful. Funny, “I won’t hold you to your past words anymore. I think it’s been long enough.”

Python prided himself on his detachment from the world, but it was impossible not to hear the traces of panic in his voice as he spoke, “That almost sounds like you don’t want me around anymore.”

“Not at all! I’ve lived twenty five years with you by my side, and my whole life would not be enough. But this war has granted you pardon from my wrath, I think.”

_Way to be romantic but also break my heart at the same time, jerk._

“I ain’t gonna spend the rest of my life serving nobles. Not gonna happen. But I’m not letting you out of my sight either, tough guy. Like you said, it’s been too long and we’ve done too much. I need someone to yell my sorry ass out of bed.”

“Glad I am to have that job,” Forsyth said. He apparently had decided that holding one hand was not enough, and reached his other hand up to cradle Python’s cheek, and the touch was painfully soft. They leaned forward into a kiss, savoring the moment as many of other couples around them were as well.

There wasn’t much else to life but living in the moment for Python.

And this moment was one he’d damn sure want to remember.

* * *

Before Forsyth formally accepted his position in the One Kingdom’s Brotherhood of Knights, whose name was an annoying mouthful that Python immediately shortened to the Brotherhood, the pair stopped by to visit their tiny home village where it all began. It seemed to have been lucky enough to escape the direct ravages of war.

Their families still lived in the same modest homes as they remembered from four years ago, almost like they had never left.

When they had departed, they had gotten a vague sense of unspoken disappointment from both of their parents, but now they were welcomed with open arms. Acts of heroism can really change people’s opinions of you.

After a night of nostalgic home cooked meals, reminiscing, and sharing war stories with the same veterans who had trained them both as youths, they finally got a moment alone, taking a stroll along the river where Forsyth had first declared his knight-bound intentions.

“I remember this place. Seems like an age ago, ya’ know? Just kids back then. Didn’t know nothin’.”

“I don’t believe I’ve really changed all that much, honestly. I’ve still got dreams beyond my means.”

“Hey now, you’re a hero to people. An inspiration.”

“And you’re a flatterer who doesn’t believe in such things.”

“Maybe so.”

They were silent for a moment, before deciding to take a seat along the bank to bask in the moonlight.

“We’re always gonna be together, right?” It was normally Forsyth who had these concerns, but Python turned to look at his partner with uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes.

“We made that promise right here, didn't we? Well, I made you promise that you’d follow me into battle, but that’s what I had meant, in not so many words. We were born together, may as well follow that to it’s logical conclusion and die together, right?”

“Woah woah! I was talking about our future. Our alive future. We ain’t going nowhere yet. Just like you to skip right to death,” Python leaned into Forsyth’s side, nestling his head in the crook of his neck, “I’m sticking with you, and come what may. How I’ve lived my life so far.”

“That’s one way, I suppose. It’s not for me, however. I can picture a future very vividly, if you’d like to hear it.”

“Go on ahead.”

There was a dreamy look in Forsyth’s eyes that caught Python’s attention as he spoke, “Well, I live out my commission with a distinguished career, and upon receiving dismissal I take to horse and find you as soon as possible. Considering you’ll be as old as me, you’ll likely be just as ready to retire, and we take our leave to move back home, or maybe away from everyone in the woods. We’re entirely self sufficient, living off hunting and a garden, which you mostly tend to since you find the other chores to be too much work. I still have to drag you out of bed before noon, and you still have to find a way to get me in bed by dawn, but we’re happy.”

His little speech was cheesy beyond belief, but it still warmed Python’s heart to the point where he had to hide his face to conceal its redness, “That sounds...pretty damn nice.”

“Nice to know we agree on something.”

They didn’t really speak after that, just letting the gentle sound of the water and the forest around lull them into peace. Forsyth’s dream for them was cliche and idyllic, but if Python knew anything, it was that Forsyth had a knack for making crazy dreams come true.•

**Author's Note:**

> Do you agree with the timeline I've given them? I beat the game like...yesterday night, so details from anything before the end stretch are a little fuzzy.


End file.
